


Notes From John Watson

by ameilonze



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - School, Cute, Embarassed Sherlock, Fluff, High School, M/M, Teenlock, it's just mainly Sherlock being an oblivious and embarassed child, locker mates, not that special
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:24:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1709888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ameilonze/pseuds/ameilonze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John are designated locker mates and these little notes always find their way into Sherlock's part of the locker, which are beginning to both frustrate and fluster Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Notes From John Watson

**Author's Note:**

> After constant urging from people to write something I finally wrote my first fic vuv. Hopefully I'll be writing more but it kinda depends on how this goes.

_Another one._

 

Sherlock Holmes flips through his notebooks, sorting what should and should not be residing within its’ illegible pages. This is the thirty-fourth note that’s managed to take its’ place in his side of the locker in the last week or so. How can it be so easy to misplace such things? Once or twice is understandable but this is getting ridiculous.

 

He unfolds the crumpled piece of loose leaf to see the quickly scrawled message—though flirt would definitely be more accurate. ‘ _You look gorgeous today. Not that it’s any different from usual though. Movie? Dinner? Maybe both and a night with me? ;)’_

 

Dull. If John Watson is so adamant about getting with this girl, the least he can do is actually remember to give these to her. They have no purpose in Sherlock’s life besides to taunt and accentuate his growing sentiment for the boy. Oh how proud Grandmere will be of him, actually _caring_ for someone useless sentiment. 

 

With an aggravated sigh, he pulls out one of John’s notebook and jots down some quick tips for his failing attempt at courting. _‘Notes John, really? Stop this adolescent approach and go and confront the girl so that you can stop this habit of not only going on my side but leaving these. Lay off the winky faces why don’t you. SH’_

Sherlock smiles slightly to himself, setting the notebook back in its place and shutting the locker. Standing for a second, he ventures on the thought that maybe, just maybe John wasn’t a complete imbecile and the notes could actually be for him. The thought brings warmth to his cheeks and nervously he adjusts his glasses, quickly dismissing the thought all together. Sentiment, his mind supplies, is a chemical defect and with that he’s brought back by faint vibrations coming from his back left trouser pocket.

 

‘come to class ya git’

 

Staring at the time on his mobile, he types out a response and proceeds to turn on the ball of his feet dragging himself off to first period. He’s only late by thirty or so minutes.

 

“Mr. Holmes this is the earliest I’ve ever seen you,” _Oh, here it comes._ “Any special occasion I should know about?”

 

“Only as special as the affair that your wife is having behind your back,” Sherlock replies indifferently as he makes his way to his seat by John.

 

“Well, I’d really like for you to tell me more about that, but I’d suppose I should get on with this Calculus.” Without another word, their teacher turns around to explain how vital memorization is going to be to all of them by the end of the week.

 

Sherlock leans against John, grabbing his paper and skimming over the work and marking every error. “Constants equal zero, John, each and every time.” A quiet hum reaches Sherlock’s ears and he gives John a quick side glance. “And you should really just ask the girl you’re pining over out in person; it’s tiring how often I see those notes.”

 

John goes rigid for a second, adjusting his blazer and clearing his throat he smiles, “Well, I guess I’ll just have to take you’re superior dating advice then.” He turns his body in Sherlock’s direction, keeping his head down. “So, will you go out with me?” Silence. “Um…you know introverts take about ten seconds to process, though you usually take less time.” He puts on a smile that’d make anyone swoon and immediately deflates. The bloody idiot _left_. He rubs his face, cursing Sherlock 100 times over. I’m going to kill the daft bastard, watch me.

 

He spends the rest of the hour sulking over the whole situation, packing up early and thinking about the genius that’s undoubtedly won him over. Quickly making his way to their locker, he unconsciously puts in the combination whipping it open which knocks one of his notebooks out onto the ground. Sighing, John first swaps his morning hour books for his binder then going to pick up the fallen notebook. Once it’s in his hands, he notices the distinguishable cursive with the trademark SH; really it’s pretty obvious who it is without the initials. Of all times Sherlock Holmes could be obnoxiously oblivious he has to choose when he wants to ask him out, doesn’t he. He sets the notebook back in his locker, grabbing his draw-string he pulls out a handful of premade notes, scattering them throughout Sherlock’s side. Once satisfied with his work, he pulls out a pencil. Grabbing his notebook and scratching down, ‘ _don’t worry I am ;)’_

Classes blur together and John doesn’t even realize that it’s time for lunch. He sits with the rugby players since Sherlock rarely makes it this far without in the day, usually leaving early. One moment he’s talking to Greg about a football game and the next he has what seems like a million slips of paper all over him and a fidgety Sherlock staring down at him. He doesn’t look happy; he’s probably planning his murder.

 

“I don’t understand.” He gestures at the notes and shifts from foot to foot. “You say you’re asking this girl out and I get flooded by these notes once again? This is illogical, John.”

 

“It isn’t if I’m asking you though,” John blurts it out and watches as Sherlock seems to have a meltdown. When it looks like Sherlock is recovered and getting ready to speak once again, he tugs the boy down before he can get anything out. He slides closer to Greg to get Sherlock onto the bench with him and fits their hands together. Sherlock gets even more frazzled than he originally was looking down at their hands then averting his gaze and staring into his lap.

 

“What are you doing, John? This is absurd,” he mumbles, fixing his glasses and turning to look at John. “This doesn’t make sense, none of it makes sense, what you said doesn’t make sense, wh—“

 

“Let’s date.” That shuts Sherlock up.

 

Sherlock looks up at John who’s grinning at him and rubbing his thumb on the inside of his palm. His face heats up at that and not trusting himself he nods, separating their hands to clean his glasses and taking that time to pull himself back together. John smiles that dumb smile again and puts his arm around Sherlock’s hip, pulling him closer then carrying on his conversation with Greg.              

 

 

 

     

 

 

   

  

        


End file.
